Mine
by Elyze
Summary: A strand of hair falls from her messy bun, suspending itself gingerly in front of her face. I slowly swept it away, gazing at her breathlessly. My expression softened, and I uttered a phrase I knew I'd eventually regret. Hitsuhina One shot


**Disclaimer:** I totally own Bleach. Yup.

**A/N:** IMPORTANT! In this fic, the point of view will exchange from first person (Hitsugaya's POV) to limited omniscient and back to first person again. Also, possible spoilers from Bleach Chapter 392. Consider yourself warned. Enjoy!

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><p><em>M i n e<em>

_by Elyze_

It was a moment unlike any other.

I looked down at her as she looked back up at me for minutes that felt like hours and hours that seemed like years.

I'd never forget that moment; our eyes locked and neither of us was capable of breaking away.

On the outside I was calm, seemingly ready for anything, but on the inside, it was a whole different story. Too much ran through my head too quickly.

My heart was thumping; I didn't understand why.

Should I have been happy? Sad? Angry? Relieved? All these emotions seemed foreign to me.

I gazed at her. Her eyes, like sinking cesspools, drew me in. She was beautiful; perfect.

Yet all I could do was just stand in front of her, not daring to speak.

I stood there for hours, frozen in place. I could have stood there for days, really.

Time passed quickly, but somehow each second felt like eternity.

.

.

.

.

.

"_Hitsugaya-taichou, she… she has–"_

**10:35 pm – Twelfth Division: Operation Room**

The world seemed to slow down, but my heart continued to beat faster and faster.

As I looked down at her, grimacing, she simply looked back up at me with that confused, vacant expression. Her eyes were wide open and her small, heart-shaped mouth closed.

"Hitsugaya-taichou…" she cooed, saying my name almost inaudibly just as Unohana had a moment ago.

I remember the days when she'd call me anything except that.

I'd correct her so many times, but it never sank it.

Unbeknownst to the young captain, a small, sad smile slowly crept onto his face, as he reminisced of the old days–

_"Hinamori! How many times do I have to tell you? It's not 'Hitsugaya-kun'. It's 'Hitsugaya-taichou'."_

–the innocent, ignorant days that will never be again.

His face twisted into a morose, biting expression.

I looked into her chocolate brown eyes; now that she's calling me 'Hitsugaya-taichou', I should be happy, right? It was what I've always wanted.

He looks down at the floor, prying his eyes from hers.

While his were shaken and solemn, hers were confused and empty.

The boy swallowed upon realization. Not realization of her vacant expression, as that was quite obvious, but of something else. If the situation had befallen anyone else, he might have laughed at the irony.

A pang of grief struck him, as, at that moment, he was utterly convinced that… 

Unable to respond, I stood in front of her breathlessly.

It was too late.

Looking her, it felt as if my heart was shattering, like a million daggers were being plunged into my chest; as if it was being contorted, with my heart coiled around a knife.

.

.

.

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><p><strong>9:33 pm – Tenth Division: Hitsugaya Toushirou's Office<strong>

His heart was beating a mile a minute and a sick, unnerving sensation overtook his stomach.

The boy didn't realize it now, but his senses warned him of something devastating.

Looking down at his untouched pile of paperwork, he found himself unable to breathe despite the air continuously rushing in and out of his body –it felt as if his lungs were on the verge of affixation.

He walked out of the room, taking a few aspirins from a bathroom cabinet, subsequently popping them in his mouth. But still, that sick, suffocating feeling never left.

"Hinamori," Hitsugaya murmured to himself subconsciously, as he walked back.

Sitting back down at his dimly lit desk, he momentarily gazed out at the night sky, disregarding the pile of neglected paperwork in front of him.

The boy tried to refocus on the papers on top of his desk, but to no avail; he couldn't help but look out the windows again.

It looked as if the clouds eclipsed the stars.

As an evening breeze rolled in, he felt the humid air graze his lightly tanned skin.

It was about to rain.

A jolt of energy ran through his body; could it be?

_He felt a sensation unlike any other, a feeling he didn't understand; a nausea that attacked the heart._

It was. He felt Hinamori's reiatsu flicker ever so slightly; she was awake.

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><p><strong>9:54 pm – Central Seireitei<strong>

Hitsugaya Toushirou, drenched by a combination of rain and sweat, sprinted across central Seireitei and towards the Twelfth Division barracks.

His chest was throbbing, his stomach was fluttering, and he could barely breathe.

Was it because of the running?

_No._

Could it be because he was force-fed the special red bean and octopus cake Inoue had given to Matsumoto a few days ago, for dinner?

_No,_ He concludes, trying to shake the feeling away, _I feel fine._

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><p><strong>10:20 pm – Twelfth Division: Barracks<strong>

"Hitsugaya-taichou," Unohana, the Fourth Division taichou, placed a hand gently on the boy's shoulder, "Kurotsuchi-taichou informed me that it may not be in anyone's best interest to–"

"She's awake," He stated bluntly. "I can sense it. Her reiatsu is…"

There was a momentary pause. Unohana simply stared at him (sadly, sympathetically), her usual kindly smile vacant from her face.

"Is she still unstable?" Hitsugaya looked up at the woman, his face calm and serious, but his eyes betrayed him. They looked like those of a scared and desperate child, rather than that of a captain's. And, although his voice didn't emit the slightest quiver, his hands were shaking.

"No."

That was a half-truth Unohana regretted telling, as the moment she finished uttering it, Hitsugaya had burst into the room where Hinamori's reiatsu was radiating from.

"Her organs were reconstructed perfectly with the help of Kurotsuchi-taichou's technology," Unohana spoke quietly, as she shunpoed towards Hitsugaya, "But…"

She looked down at the floor, searching for something that was impossible to find; a way to say what she was about to say without completely shattering the young captain's carefully constructed disposition.

Unable to formulate a method, she silently stood there, watching the younger captain as a cute, raven-haired girl in a white yukata turned towards them. Unohana redirected her attention towards her. The girl's warm chocolate eyes, albeit tired and lifeless, returned their both gazes.

Hitsugaya stared at her unblinkingly. The nausea that haunted him for the years that she'd been asleep disintegrated, he could breathe again, and his heart beat even harder and faster. Relief enveloped his body. A rare, warm, genuine smile graced his features, as he approached her.

She simply looked back at him with a foreign, far-off look on her face.

"Hey, Hinamori –"

She didn't react.

"Hitsugaya-taichou," Unohana silenced the boy with a stern yet gentle whisper, "she…" the woman paused slightly before continuing, suppressing a tremble in her voice, "She has amnesia."

The grin he'd worn disappeared, "What?"

"Have you ever heard of dissociative fugue*?" She asked almost inaudibly, "It's induced by psychological trauma."

With a slight pause, she cleared her throat before continuing, "She also seems to be in a state of shock."

And, before the boy could realize it, Unohana was gone. She might have said some other things prior to leaving; he wasn't sure. But, at the moment, he couldn't care less.

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><p>.<p>

.

**11:01 pm – Twelfth Division: Operation Room**

She's broken; it's my fault.

She was so delicate… like a porcelain doll…

And I broke her.

Like a careless child, I left her in such a battered state…

Traumatized, emotionally scarred, and psychologically damaged.

How could this have happened? How could have I let this happen?

I promised to protect her.

I swore to kill anyone that made her bleed.

I wanted her to be safe; unharmed; unhurt.

But life's funny that way, isn't it?

As it turned out, I hurt her the most.

I did the most damage to her delicate psyche.

I caused the most harm.

_I nearly killed her._

And I left her in such a state that she doesn't even remember her own name.

She doesn't know who she is.

She doesn't know who I am.

She could barely speak.

Yet she called me "Hitsugaya-taichou"; it made me want to laugh and cry at the same time.

Because life's funny that way, isn't it?

It was what I'd always wanted her to call me, but the moment that I heard it escape her mouth, my heart fell to pieces.

I didn't want to be 'Hitsugaya-taichou'.

It was a moment unlike any other.

I looked down at her as she looked back up at me. My heart was beating fast. The whole world seemed to slow down around me, as if I was holding my breath. Her eyes pierced me like daggers.

I'd never forget that moment. Once I started to look at her, I couldn't look away. Too many thoughts ran through my head. I wanted to look away, but, if I did, I would have felt like a coward.

On the outside I was calm, seemingly ready for anything, but on the inside, it was a whole different story. I was on the verge of breaking down, of falling apart.

My heart was throbbing; I didn't want to admit why.

Should I have been happy? Sad? Angry? Relieved? All these emotions ran through me, but none of them could describe how I felt. I was desperate, drowning with despair.

I gazed at her, looking deep into her eyes, hoping to see even one remnant of the girl she had been… perhaps that would have erased some of my disparity. She looked so beautiful, so undamaged; almost perfect. But that was just an illusion. She was completely and utterly broken. And I knew it.

Yet all I could do was just stand in front of her, not daring to speak.

I stood there as time flew, frozen in place. I could have stood there for days, really.

Time passed quickly, but somehow each second felt like eternity.

Before I knew it, I was fighting rebellious tears from spilling. At that second, I knew I couldn't bear to stay.

But, as I watched her, sitting there and looking back me in such a vulnerable state, I couldn't leave. My legs just wouldn't bulge.

That moment, I lost control of my body.

As I began walking towards her, my arms subconsciously wrapped around her petite frame. Then I realized…

I'm taller than she is now.

"Hitsugaya-taichou," She looked at me intently, as if to say something.

"Shh…" I held up a finger gently against my lips, leaning closer towards her, our faces almost touching.

"Don't call me that, Hinamori," I whispered, my eyebrows furrowing slightly.

She was like a broken toy; one that fell to pieces and couldn't be put back together. She was so damaged, so riven.

Instinctively, I lightly grazed my lips against hers.

_I didn't care._

She looks up at me with widened eyes and flushed cheeks, "H-Hitsugaya-taichou?"

A grin stretched out onto my face. "How many times do I have to tell you?" I said as my mouth twisted into a smirk, "It's not 'Hitsugaya-taichou'."

She only looks up at me in confusion.

A strand of hair falls from her messy bun, suspending itself gingerly in front of her face. I slowly swept it away, gazing at her breathlessly. My expression softened, and I uttered something I knew I'd eventually regret.

"Call me 'Shirou-chan'."

"Shirou-chan…" She whispered, eyes closed, burrowing her face into my shihakusho. That name comforted her, I think.

"Yeah," I replied quietly, looking down at the girl who I had resolved to protect.

And, I asked myself: So _what if_ she was broken?

She was alive.

She was beautiful.

_And she was __min__e__._

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><p><strong>AN:**

A HUUUUUGE thank you for all of those who read this story, since (as you may or may not have known) it's my first one! I was super nervous to put it up, but, yeah, I did it! Haha! I would also really appreciate some feedback. Whether it's constructive criticism, praise, or whatever; I would love to hear it!

In other words, review, s'il vous plaît *heart*

***Anyways, here is a bit of information I found via Wikipedia about the type of amnesia Momo has:**

Dissociative amnesia results from a psychological cause as opposed to direct damage to the brain caused by head injury, physical trauma or disease, which is known as organic amnesia.

It can include/induce repressed memory, dissociative fugue, and posthypnotic amnesia.

Dissociative Fugue (formerly Psychogenic Fugue) is also known as fugue state. It is caused by psychological trauma and is usually temporary, unresolved and therefore may return. The Merck Manual defines it as "one or more episodes of amnesia in which the inability to recall some or all of one's past and either the loss of one's identity or the formation of a new identity occur with sudden, unexpected, purposeful travel away from home."


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